


Drag Me To Hell

by galpalaven



Category: Mass Effect Trilogy
Genre: Angst, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Mass Effect 3: Leviathan, No Shepard without Vakarian, Shepard Cousins, btw thats who this Kira person is lmao, listen that mission with shakarian is hoooooo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-28
Updated: 2017-07-28
Packaged: 2018-12-08 01:45:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,307
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11636361
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/galpalaven/pseuds/galpalaven
Summary: 2181 Despoina is a world made of water, and Garrus's own, personal hell.





	Drag Me To Hell

Garrus has always said, often in late-night reassuring conversations curled up in Shepard’s bed, that he would follow Shepard into Hell itself without a second thought. And he’d meant it, for the most part—he’d gone through the Omega 4 Relay with her, after all, and before that through the Conduit into the fight against Sovereign, but…

But, until now, he hadn’t realized that she’d actually taken him clean at his word.

He wonders briefly, as he eyes the water crashing against the rain-soaked metal platform warily, if she’d actually forgotten what he’d said about turians and swimming. If she’d been a bit too preoccupied with the conversation that happened _after_ that quip to remember it, or—or if maybe she’s mad at him and this is his punishment. Lightning flashes against something far out on the sea, and he shakes his head. 

No. Shepard wouldn’t do that to him. She wouldn’t.

There’s a rushing in his eardrums as she and Cortez yell at each other over the comms, the wind and rain whipping around them making it hard to hear each other, even with the earpieces. EDI tries to clean up the comms as much as she can, both of them hovering near the shuttle until they apparently figure it out and start to move farther away from—from safety.

He jumps when a hand touches his arm.

“Gare? You okay?” asks Shepard, face the picture of concern when he looks down at her. She reaches up further to touch his shoulder, smiling a little, squinting through the rain and wind, and adds, “We’ll be out of here as soon as we can be, alright?”

There’s too big of a lump in his throat to allow for anything other than a weak nod.

He can do this, he thinks as he presses down a swell of fear threatening to bubble up and out of his throat at the unsteady rocking of the shipwreck—or is he imagining that? Shepard and EDI look fairly steady, as they begin to pick their way through the things scattered around the deck, and he tries to focus on Shepard more than the rushing water as they search for clues. It’s just water, he reminds himself distantly. It can’t hurt him while he’s got both feet on the ground, however slick or shaky it might be.

Of course, any sort of weak grasp he’d regained on his courage slips when they find the first skeletons. 

He can hear Shepard and EDI discussing the remains—something about corrosion and decay—but his eyes stray towards a data pad lying on a box. It’s nothing important, just the dying thoughts of the person on the makeshift bed beside them. Shepard reads it over his shoulder as EDI moves to a different tent across the way. 

“Do you think they starved or drowned?” Garrus tries to joke, nodding towards the sky as it continues to pour over them. His voice is too tight, though, and he can barely stop himself from flinching.

Shepard hears the concern under his question, and squeezes his elbow gently. “We’ll figure this out, sweetheart. Don’t worry.”

_Easy for you to say,_ he wants to scoff, remembering stories about humans being able to swim for miles without drowning, but this isn’t the time. They all need to focus to get off this watery hell planet, and he can have a breakdown about this later. In the peace and quiet of the battery back on the Normandy.

Right…

 

* * *

 

 

Shepard was beating herself up the _entire_ ride down to 2181 Despoina, after she remembered midway what Garrus had said on the Citadel about turians and _water_.

_“You obviously haven’t seen turians swim. It’s a lot of flailing and splashing interrupted by occasional bouts of drowning_.”

The moment Cortez said that the probe went down in _water_ , in an apparent planet-wide ocean, she heard Garrus shift uncomfortably behind her, and she wanted to punch herself in the face. Hearing Cortez assure her that the Kodiak is designed for shit like this did nothing to make her feel better, because now not only was she dragging her boyfriend to his own personal hell and landing somewhere, she’s about to keep him stuck in a metal box that may or may not be water proof and go hundreds of feet below the water to find something that may or may not try to kill them.

She is definitely the worst girlfriend in the entire universe.

“Garrus, I—” she began, not sure where she was going with the thought but definitely sure she wanted to go somewhere, only to be cut off by a large bump and the flickering of lights.

_Fuck_.

She makes sure not to make a big deal out of the way Garrus clung to her on the way down, one hand tight at her waist, pressing her face uncomfortably into his chest piece. She knows EDI notices, but she and Garrus both know how they can write it off as just making sure that she wasn’t hurt in the impact—just protection, and not terror, like the tension in his arm screamed as he reluctantly let her go again.

The Kodiak is completely shot, is what Cortez tells her as they all stumble out into the torrential downpour. They’ve landed on a ship—one of dozens, in an endless grey ocean—and it sways unsteadily as she tries to hear what Cortez is telling her. 

She owes Garrus about 7 favors, and one more for every minute they spend on this rusting hunk of metal, she reckons as they venture down further across the deck of the wreck.

She can feel his tension, even as she and EDI set about trying to find any clues as to what that pulse was, or how to get out of here. There’s a far away look in his eyes when she turns to find him reading a data pad, and for a brief moment, she wants to wrap her arms around him and just…breathe for a few moments.

But they can’t. They have a mission to do, and the most she can offer him now is a few empty, reassuring words.

God, she hates herself sometimes.

 

* * *

 

Something is wrong.

Not just with the whole situation— _of course_ there’s something wrong with the situation, but beyond that, his mind feels almost fuzzy. Every time he so much as glances towards the water, there’s a flash, quicker than he can actually notice, and the sensation of air being siphoned out of his lungs, like he’s being crushed. On top of being constantly wet in the downpour, he feels like he’s drowning, and it’s messing with his—

— _Wait a damn minute._

Snapping his head around, he turns to look at one of the tents nearby and, _lo and behold_ , there’s one of those weird orbs, glowing and pulsing. It’s messing with him, he knows it, and that’s why he doesn’t so much as look at Shepard when she shouts after him. It’s ringing in his eardrums now, a strange, pulsing rhythm that makes him want to collapse, but he’s just pissed now. Raising his gun before it can do anything else to him, he pulls the trigger and the orb shatters with a single blow.

Good.

“Garrus?”

“These damn artifacts are messing with my head, Shepard. We should—”

“Shepard! We’ve got incoming!”

A glance upward reveals that the day has just gone from awful, to downright terrible, as a _huge_ Reaper descends from the sky, dropping ground troops on their ship. He pretends his hands aren’t shaking as he gets into cover, trying to take down as many husks as he can before they get close enough that Shepard needs her biotics. At least this is familiar—he doesn’t have to think when he’s looking through the scope, though—oh _spirits_ , _Shepard_ —

Before he can even think to yell for her, the Brute is already on top of her, bringing one of its claws down in a sweeping move that would have sheared her in half had she not, at the last second, put up a barrier strong enough that its arm just bounces back harmlessly. He can almost hear her snarling from here, as she reels back and throws her fist into the ground, sending a biotic shockwave scattering enemies left and right, devastating enough to kill most of them as they get thrown into walls or old cargo.

After a moment, Cortez’s staticky voice over the comm announces that he’s airborne, and thankfully the Kodiak manages to take down the final Brute before Shepard can try punching it to death again.

Until, of course, she starts running towards the other end of the deck anyway, as the Kodiak stutters and comes in for another rough landing opposite them. Shepard’s charging forward like a madwoman (as always, truthfully), pulse rifle that she’d picked up on one of the geth ships unslung and spraying as she sprints to Cortez’s aid. He and EDI make haste to follow after her, picking off enemies she’d missed on the way, before they all finally come to a stop in front of the shuttle. 

“What’s the status?” Shepard gasps, running a hand through her hair to push it back from her eyes.

Cortez shakes his head. “She’s inoperable.”

“ _Dammit_ ,” Shepard hisses, and Garrus steps up beside her in a gesture that is hopefully comforting.

“What about the Normandy?” he asks, trying to keep the desperation out of his subvocals and failing miserably. _Thank the spirits none of you are turian_. “Could they do a pickup?”

Cortez shakes his head. “No good. The same pulse would hit the Normandy, and the landing wouldn’t be nearly as pretty.”

“…so we’re stuck here,” Garrus concludes, heart dropping.

“No,” Shepard says, almost immediately. “We just have to turn off that pulse.”

He blinks down at his girlfriend, who isn’t looking at him, but instead off at the horizon, chewing on her lip. “What are you thinking?”

“We’re gonna do what we came here to do, Garrus. Find Leviathan.”

 

* * *

 

This is the stupidest, most bullheaded, dumbass-est thing Sun’s pretty sure she’s ever done in her life, but what other choice do they have? They have to turn that pulse _off_ or they’re never leaving. She’s not about to sit on this stupid boat and watch Garrus starve to death.

Leviathan _is_ here. It has to be—somewhere down in that water, hiding and using that pulse to scare off intruders. All she has to do is get down there and find it, and the first step to that is probably to find the probe. 

“We have to find the probe,” she says to Cortez, ignoring the look Garrus is giving her and pretending like she can’t _feel_ EDI computing the survival odds of a stunt like that. “Any ideas, Steve?”

Cortez nods from where he’s kneeling inside the door of the Kodiak. Nodding to something on her right, he says, “You could use that mech over there to get down to it. With the doors closed like that, it probably hasn’t seen the wear and tear most of this other stuff has.”

“What is that, a diving mech?” she asks, eyeing the vehicle he’d gestured to.

“A Triton ADS. Alliance ordered a bunch of them for deep sea exploration—should operate like any other standard mech, if it still works, anyway.”

“Shepard,” EDI’s voice interrupts finally, “perhaps you are not aware of the risks in this scenario. Are we seriously suggesting—?”

Sun ignores her. Now is not the time to start putting too much thought into what she does. “How do we get it working?”

Shepard almost smiles at Garrus’s grumble of, “ _I guess we are_.”

Almost.

It’s a simple enough plan, getting the doors to the mech open, though another Reaper helpfully drops in and drops a bunch more foot soldiers on their heads while she’s trying to use the shuttle’s power cells to turn the door on. Garrus and EDI manage to keep them away from her for the most part, until the doors creak open and she can climb into the mech.

_“Should operate like any other standard mech_ ,” Cortez had said, she thinks as she looks over the controls dazedly. As if she’s used enough mechs in her life to know what that means.

There are a few buttons that say Main Gun and Rocket, though, so she manages to figure it out in time to help keep the remaining Reaper troops off her friends. Once the final Brute falls, Cortez’s voice comes in over her comm.

“Alright! Walk her back over to me when you’re ready so I can make sure she’s in good condition for a dive.”

 

* * *

 

Garrus is standing with his hands held out to her, when the Triton opens and, while soaked to the bone and winded, that makes her smile as she graciously accepts his help climbing back out of the thing. He doesn’t let go immediately, squeezing her hands to make her look up at him curiously.

“Are you alright?” he asks, low enough that EDI and Cortez looking over the mech can’t quite hear him.

Her eyes cloud over with something unidentifiable, but she nods. “Sooner we get home, the better.”

He nods, agreeing to a point, but—“Are you _sure_ about this, Shepard? We don’t know _what_ you’ll find down there, or how friendly it’ll be.”

She takes a shallow breath and shrugs. “We don’t have a choice, Garrus,” she says distantly, turning her head back towards Cortez as he declares the mech as dive-ready as it could be. He thinks.

“Okay, then,” Shepard sighs, pulling her hands out of his and climbing back up into the mech. Anxiety rising by the heartbeat, Garrus finds his voice caught in his throat as she settles in and says, “Let’s get this over with.”

“Shepard, look, you know I’m all for crazy ideas,” he hears himself say, stepping up closer now, “but this one’s off the charts.”

Something in her eyes agrees with that sentiment, but she forces herself to smile anyway, reaching out to touch his cheek briefly. Brows furrowing, she nods, setting her jaw with determination, a new, familiar fire lighting up her eyes—there’s no arguing with her now. “The way home is through Leviathan, Garrus. We have no other option here.”

He can’t let her go like this. He has so many arguments for why she shouldn’t do this, but they’re all caught in his ribcage. He can’t even swim, and he can’t fight what he can’t see. He can’t protect her like this. 

_Shepard, I can’t help you down there,_ he thinks desperately, trying to convey what he can’t say through his eyes. _I can’t get to you if you need me. I can’t swim if something goes wrong. I can’t come after you if I need to. There’s only room for one, and what will you do if you get into trouble? What if you need help and we can’t get to you?_

“But, Shepard…”

_Please, don’t do this to me._

She nods again, smiling a little this time. Trying to be reassuring. Failing. “I’ll be fine.”

And he can’t argue with her anymore. His hands are numb, and there’s a knot in his throat, so all he does is nod. She pauses, almost like she’s about to change her mind, but then she shakes her head and hits the button to close the latch. He’s aware that she’s still talking, discussing readings and whatnot, but the rushing of the waves is louder now, drowning her out almost completely when combined with the heavy thudding of his heartbeat in his eardrums.

The sound of the mech hitting the waves is a sound he feels in his gut, and before he knows it, she’s gone.

Now, they wait.

 

* * *

 

_Oh, shit. Oh, shit. Oh, shit shit shit_.

In hindsight, it is probably a good thing that Sun didn’t mention her crushing fear of the deep sea to anyone— _especially_ Garrus—before this mission. She’s barely managing to keep her breathing under control, fully aware that the amount of air she has is probably not enough for a particularly long or thorough expedition. She just has to keep her voice steady for the comms, if they can still hear them anyway, and everything will be fine. It’s just like exploring space except—with more risk of drowning.

Oh boy.

She moves as quickly as she dares, falling off ledge after ledge and feeling her heartbeat spike with every extra hundred meters. She doesn’t know how deep this mech will let her go, or how deep she _can_ go before she can’t get back to the surface. And—And if she gets back to the surface in the wrong _place_? What will she do then? How—?

Her breath leaves her in a quiet _whoosh_ when she spots the probe, blinking and in one piece, a bit ahead of her. Leviathan must be around here somewhere then, right? All she has to do is keep walking forward and maybe…

Oh.

Oh _god_.

 

* * *

 

Two hours.

She’s been gone for _two_ _hours_.

Garrus has taken to pacing the deck now, wearing a rut along the edge of the water when he’s not having to duck behind cover and shoot at more Reaper troops, because Sovereign’s stupid cousin hasn’t left yet and is, in fact, still dropping nuisances on them left and right. He’s almost grateful for it, every now and then, because it takes his mind off Shepard—all alone, in the dark, hundreds and hundreds of meters below the ocean with some kind of _thing_ that they don’t even know is friendly in the slightest. She must be terrified.

And if not, then he’s terrified enough for the both of them.

It’s been 2 hours, 27 minutes, and approximately 33 seconds when the mech breaks the water’s surface again, landing haphazardly on the edge of the ship. It opens, and Shepard half-falls out of it, stumbling heavily onto her knees as the machine falls backwards and sinks into the depths again. 

There’s a few terrifying seconds where Garrus waits for her to get up, to fight, only to watch her stumble forward a few more steps, and collapse once more, this time for good. The looming Brute almost doesn’t seem to know what to do with her, and he doesn’t stop to think about much more than that before he’s racing to her side, dodging the Brutes (who he notes have for some reason started punching each other) and trying to stay on his feet as the ship rocks beneath him.

_“Shepard!_ ” he gasps, dropping to his knees beside her, absolutely terrified for a moment that she’s just dead, only to sigh when she groans weakly. “Cortez, Shepard’s back. Talk to me!” 

He’d carry her back bridal style if she’d let him, but she’s already trying to push herself up again, at least vaguely aware of her surroundings. He slings her arm around his neck and helps her to her feet, awkwardly bent to accommodate her height as she lets out half a broken sob and limps a few steps forward.

Cortez says something about the pulse being offline, but Garrus can’t focus on that as Shepard slips again. Apology already running through his head, he sighs and bends further to sweep his arm behind her knees, lifting her fully into his arms just as she loses consciousness again.

_ Damn it. _

The Kodiak is already waiting and ready to go when he gets there, EDI close behind, shooting at stragglers that threaten to overtake them as he clambers onto the shuttle with his arms full of his unconscious girlfriend. 

He’s only barely aware of Cortez closing the doors and flying them off that damned shipwreck and off the planet entirely. His visor’s readings of her vitals say she’s alive, but her body temperature is way too low, and her heartbeat is too slow. Omni-tool readings say the same, and he can’t keep the desperation out of his voice as he begs, “ _Shepard!_ Shepard, wake up! She’s freezing.”

He’s about two seconds from ripping her chest piece off to attempt CPR when she starts to splutter suddenly, turning on her side and coughing up seawater.

“Shepard, are you okay?” he nearly barks, still running on adrenaline and terror, hand on her shoulder as gently as he can through the tension. 

She doesn’t move to get up yet, but she does wave a hand at him. Weakly. “Fine,” she croaks. “Hell of a headache, though.”

She lies there for a few more seconds, just breathing, before she pushes herself up, crawling over to the seats along the back wall, and ignoring Garrus’s nervous, hovering hands all the while. 

Cold, wet, and still shaking, Garrus straightens up and fixes his girlfriend with a half-hearted glare. “ _Never_ do that again.”

Sun doesn’t do much more than smile, before she’s back to business, talking to Dr. Ann and trying to sort the mission out before she’s even fully regained consciousness. She doesn’t react when he sits beside her, tugging on her arm until her head is resting on his shoulder and he can bury his nose in her still wet, sea-salt smelling hair. EDI looks at them for a moment, before turning back to Cortez and the flight console—an offer of privacy, he realizes.

“…are you really okay, Shepard?” he asks quietly.

“Yeah,” she replies, trying to make her voice light and failing. “Just need an aspirin and a hot shower and I’ll be right as rain.”

“ _Shepard_ ,” he tries to insist, but she just curls a little farther into him with a groan.

“Honey, please, just—wait until we’re back home, okay?”

Garrus finds he can’t really argue with that, even if he wanted to.

 

* * *

 

Sun somehow manages to get away from Garrus before he can start prying again, practically jogging straight to the elevator and up to her quarters to get in the shower as quickly as she can. 

She really does have a headache, and she really is freezing, so it wasn’t like she was lying to get out of an argument. Garrus had mentioned something about showering, too, so maybe that will also buy her some time, she thinks as she turns the water as hot as she can take it without burning herself and lets the steam fill the room. 

The steam, at least, does help alleviate the pressure behind her eyes, and she wipes at her nose to make sure the blood is all gone. Whatever the hell that creature had done to her mind, and to her brain, it had sure left her sore. The warmth seeps into her muscles and all the way down into her bones, soothing even as tears sting at her eyes and roll down her cheeks.

Dammit, that mission was one of the worst she’d been on yet. Sure, facing down Reapers wasn’t fun, but at least she had her people at her back. At least there was always someone with her when push came to shove. Garrus or Tali or Kira or _someone—anyone_.

At least when she was facing down a Reaper, she wouldn’t be dying alone.

The whole deep-diving experience had rattled her much more than she cared to think about, but showers tended to be the times her emotions felt they could run wild, and before she really knew what was happening, she had her forehead pressed to the corner of the bathroom, attempting to muffle a sob with her hand. She’s grateful that the Captain’s Cabin has a floor to itself, she thinks as the tears come harder now, because she really doesn’t need anymore people asking if she’s okay daily than she already does.

Compulsory, polite, “ _You okay?”_ s every once in a while, she could handle, but if someone heard her crying in the shower, she’d never live it down, honestly, and there’s just not enough time for that. Not with— _everything else_ , anyway.

She stands in the shower and cries, somehow managing to squeeze in actually washing in between the gut-wrenching sobs, until the water runs cold. Feeling both decidedly worse and better all at once, she wraps herself in a fluffy bathrobe and rubs a towel on her hair as she steps out into her bedroom, sighing softly.

She stops when she hears a familiar, two-toned voice say her name.

“Shepard.”

When she opens her eyes a beat later, he’s rising from his seat at the armchair down in the sitting area, out of his armor for once. The sight makes her smile a little, as he sets aside the data pad he’d been reading and his—and his visor.

_Oh, no_.

She stops at the top of the steps, barefoot and feeling much more vulnerable as she processes that he might have heard her little breakdown back there. She can’t deduce anything from his facial expression, as per usual, as he stops at the bottom of the steps, putting them mostly eye-to-eye. He watches her carefully, like he’s expecting her to bolt, as he says, “We need to talk about what happened down there.”

Sun forces a smile. “I don’t think I have the words to explain it, honestly, I—”

“Shepard, you have to stop.”

She falters, smile fading as she looks up at her boyfriend. “I…what?”

“You keep throwing yourself on the line like that and one of these days it’s going to get you killed,” he says seriously, trying to hold her gaze as she turns to look at the fish tank, leaning against the little wall holding her model ships up. “You didn’t used to be this reckless, Shepard, and you know it. What happened?”

Her eyes are burning again. “Nothing. The stakes are just higher than they used to be. That’s all. I—”

“Kira thinks you think you have a failsafe, now that you’ve got her in the picture. She said you might think that gives you more freedom to pull stunts like this, because there would still be someone to keep things together if we lost you.”

_…fuck_.

She can’t look at him, even as he grasps at her arms and bends to try and catch her eyes. “Shepard, is that—?”

“Garrus, I can’t—”

“ _Sun_.”

Her first name on his tongue is the final straw, and the first tears fall, as she finally, miserably turns her face towards his, still avoiding his eyes. His hands on her cheeks, ungloved, make her close her eyes and a few more drops of salty tears roll down her cheeks and onto his thumbs. 

_ Fuck. _

“Sun, we need _you_ ,” he says quietly, after a long moment, a little desperate now. She takes a hiccuping breath, but stubbornly refuses to open her eyes. “Sun, look at me. _Look at me._ ”

It takes her a second to build up the courage, but she does as he says, biting into her lip to look up at her boyfriend, whose face is more open than she can ever remember seeing it. Gently, he wipes at the tears on her cheeks, eyes darting across her features as he tries to find the words he wants. Eventually, he sighs and shakes his head. 

“ _I_ need you. Here. _Alive_. With _me_.”

She sniffles. “ _Garrus_ —”

“You can’t keep doing this, Shepard. I need you, okay?” Garrus closes the distance between them, brow plates drawn low and eyes slid shut as he presses his forehead to hers. “ _I need you_.”

She feels like the worst person in the entire galaxy, hearing the hurt undertone in his voice. Reaching up to touch his hands where they still cup her cheeks, she bites back a sob. “ _Sorry_ ,” her voice is hoarse and barely there. “ _‘M sorry, Gare._ ”

He lets out a huff of air that might be the ghost of a laugh. “You scared me today.”

She sniffles again, squeezing his hands. “I know, but we—w-we didn’t—”

“—have any other choice, I know, Shepard. I know, but you just—” he cuts off, shaking his head. He tilts his chin, dragging his mouth against the skin of her cheek and sighing, the intimacy of his breath running over her skin making her shiver. “You have to start being more careful, Sun. We can’t do this without you, no matter how much you think we can.”

She doesn’t know what to say to make it better, or to make him feel better, because she can’t promise she won’t do something stupid again if that’s what it takes to win. She knows the Alliance needs her, knows that there’s still work to be done getting the asari on board for the final assault, but… “ _I’m tired_ ,” she gasps, half a sob caught in her throat. “I’m so _tired_ , Garrus.”

Garrus drops his hands to her waist then, wrapping strong arms tight around her middle and burying his face in her shoulder, sighing as she does the same. She sniffles miserably into his shirt, squeezing at his shoulders as she presses up on her tiptoes to get closer. Her heart is hurting and she needs him to help her close the tear again if he can.

“Let’s go to bed,” he says, muffled, after a long minute, rubbing his hands up and down her back. “We’ll both feel better after some rest.”

“Can you stay?” falls out of her mouth before she really processes it, desperation and the fear of being alone with her thoughts making her cling fast to her boyfriend as he tries to pull back. “Can you stay with me, Garrus? Please?”

He laughs softly, pulling away to look down at her warmly. He swipes at another tear that escapes, and flicks his mandibles at her in a lopsided grin. “Definitely. Nowhere else I’d rather be.”

_I love you_ , she wants to say, especially as he leans in to brush his mouth against hers. _I love you so much, Garrus. I didn’t mean to hurt you—I was trying to make sure you got out of there alive_.

She kisses him once, twice, three more times before she lets him fully pull away and move back towards the bed, unlatching his shirt as he goes. Shepard watches him with a distant sense of fondness, drinking in the bare skin when he slides his shirt off and onto the couch. Padding over to her closet to find something comfortable to sleep in, she tries to make her voice a little more normal as she says, “I think I owe you a few favors, next time we’re in the mood.”

It must work, because he laughs behind her. “I’ll make sure to take you up on that,” he chortles. When she turns to grin at him, he smiles from where he’s already lying on the bed. “Someday.”

_Someday_ , she thinks, grabbing the first t-shirt and pair of panties she sees. _And s_ _omeday we won’t have to have these conversations anymore._

As she crawls into bed beside him, he turns the lights down, sliding under the covers and leaning in for another kiss. The tension is mostly gone now, and she’s exhausted—physically, mentally, and emotionally. The last thing she registers before she falls asleep is Garrus’s voice, but her translator doesn’t pick it up, as she’s apparently already too far out of it.

Huh. She’ll have to ask him about it, if she remembers in the morning.

 

* * *

 

“ _I love you.”_

She doesn't hear him, he knows, because her breath is already slow and even, but he says it anyway, leaning closer to brush his forehead against hers.

" _I love you._ "  


 

* * *

__

> _ Courage is not the absence of fear, but the triumph over it. It is the judgement that something else— **someone** else, perhaps—is more important than that fear.  _

**Author's Note:**

> this monster would not let me sleep until i finished it. hi it's about 7:30 in the morning i've been up all night


End file.
